Cuttings - May
Michael P. Garofalo
May
Red Bluff, Tehama County,
North Sacramento Valley, California
Walls of red
bougainvillea bracts,
lasting and scentless.
Dirty hand, callused palm,
black fingernails:
Green Thumb.
wide-eyed cows
taken in a trailer--
fruit in a basket
The cows have vanished down the road,
and the last clouds have floated away.
We sit together, the valley and me,
until only the valley remains.
(Thanks to the Taoist poet Li Po.)
Under our floor,
Spider families.
Two Worlds - an inch apart.
Soothing hum
twirling ceiling fan -
we doze on the cool tile.
Mother's Day--
an old man
hugs his granddaughter.
A killdeer fans its tail and peeps,
luring us away from the nest she keeps.
Lathhouse shade--
the scent of honeysuckle
filling the shadows.
Onion Garden
Bittersweet vines
bounce in the breeze--
a peacock shrieks.
pilgrimage over--
their home is sacred
now
Dead mouse
in my dog's mouth--
dark clouds.
Some of my haiku poems appeared in the May-June 2004 issue of Simply Haiku.
Studying a tree--
my dog and I
pause and pee.
Sunday--
quiet
hours
no
holiness.
dark
and dirty
pond
at dawn--
white
ducks dip
a
thorn
almost
invisible--
still
stinging
after watering ....
the Swiss chard
drips
A flurry of gnats
on sunset breezes -
splattered windshield.
Squeezing my hand;
she said goodbye
one last time.
A short biography of Michael P. Garofalo
Dusty cream ceiling -
bowlegged black spider
plodding upside-down
Rising early,
Long I Ponder
Decades gone.
often:
Wide mind, deep feelings ...
poemless
Time will tell, but we often fail to listen.
Seeing with one eye and feeling with the other does help bring things into focus.
Round things are very nice - fruit, women, the earth.
When the Divine knocks, don't send a prophet to the door.
Gardening is a passion to continue, despite failure and uncertainty.
The empty garden is already full.
Gardeners learn to live in worm time, bee time, and seed time.
- Pulling Onions, by Michael P. Garofalo
The Mind is a vast Bodhi forest,
The body a Bodhi tree.
Dirt is in every cranny,
Flowers blossom, leaves fall.
The Bodhi Trees have been cut down,
The Bright Mirrors shattered.
Beginning with nothing,
Replant the trees, remake the mirrors.
Make one's mind like a mirror,
One's body like the Giving tree.
Reflect accurately and impartially;
Give fruit and shade.
Memorial Day--
unpacking
summer clothes.
tiny green plums
nestled in the leaves
hiding from the sun
The shade moves
ever so slowly--
the heat crawls past noon.
Her son
hears her last breath--
silence.
Lines of baled hay
yellowing in the sunshine--
dry May day.
May - Quotes, Poems, Folklore, Links, Chores
A few molecules awry, madness beckons:
Flooding visions, no mind that reckons.
Howling dog
over and again and on ...
Shaddup!!!!
Close to midnight--
the train
rumbles past.
Thunder shakes the schoolroom walls,
kids squeal, hail rattles outside the halls.
Rich or poor,
wise or foolish -
inevitable midnight.
Checking the drip lines
one by one, in the sun ...
my sweat drops ...
Purple and pale blue
Vetch blossoms festoon the pond;
draped by the black sky.
Questionables:
two points on one needle;
speaking never listening.
Taking aim--
the First Precept
falls.
The gardens, fences,
pastures, foothills, mountains ... All
disappear in the night.
the growl of trucks
Edges off
the silence of night
Up and down, up and down, up and down;
two hummingbirds fussing round and round.
Pine
candles in the wind,
flickering green.
Robust grape vines twine and climb
on the sagging fence that never whines.
Paint splattered art room floor
scuffed and worn from desk to door.
The cat paused
on her path of destruction -
licking her paws.
shotgun blast--
his brain
drips down the wall
telling the story,
the empty
house stutters
over the sad
parts
Cloudless morning
pale blue sky -
lonely meadowlark's cry.
A curvy county road
turns past three white crosses -
both hands grip the wheel.
The ominous soundtrack
fills the room -
penetrating fear.
two roses
crawling under the fence,
looking for the sun
Dead cat
one leg up -
the magpies hop closer.
Basho's crow:
sketched with words
perched on a page.
Beneath the pond scum
deeper down,
the pebble drops away.
Thousands of leaves
shake in the breeze--
empty sky.
"A ha!" to you may be "Ho hum" to me;
But, "A ha!" together is true poetry.
Dead at forty five, we buried him;
Alcohol and vicodin, did him in.
Steve G. 1950-1995
Somewhere in Vietnam:
a grandfather cries,
thinking of friends killed by
GIs.
Touch and run ...
Tag, your It!
Playing It is fun.
Flesh to flesh
mating -
May-flies
Night crew
closing up the restaurant -
tired faces.
Memorial Day
nitro boat races on the lake -
4000 horsepower Taps.
(Starting in the Spring of 1994, more than 800,000
Tutsi tribespeople
were massacred
by
Hutu tribespeople in Rwanda,
Africa.)
He sliced off
her little hands -
cleaning up Rawanda.
Classrooms filled
with rotting corpses -
Hutu educational reforms.
Haiku
Poetry
Links,
Guides, References
Author Index to Haiku Poetry on the Internet
Comments About the Poetry Notebooks of Mike Garofalo
One
Short of a Baker's Dozen
Sonnets, 10-16 Line Free Verse Poems, Rengay, Haibun
By Michael P. Garofalo
Teaching Haiku Poetry: Links, References and Quotes
The Body as
Audience
by
Ann Gleeson
Quotes
for Gardeners
Quotes, Sayings, Proverbs, Poetry, Maxims, Quips,
Cliches, Adages, Wisdom
A Collection Growing to Over 2,700 Quotes Arranged by Over 130 Topics
Many of the Documents Include Recommended Readings and Internet Links.
Compiled by Michael P. Garofalo
Copyrighted © 1999 - 2004 by Michael P. Garofalo. All rights reserved.
I Welcome Your
Comments, Ideas, Contributions, and Suggestions
E-mail Mike Garofalo in Red Bluff, California
A Short Biography of Mike Garofalo
Garofalo's Poetry Notebook II
Cuttings: May - Spring Days
Short Poems by Michael P. Garofalo
89K, 7 May 2004, Version 4.6.
Cloud Hands: T'ai Chi Ch'uan and Ch'i Kung
Haiku and Short Poems by Michael P. Garofalo
